Alien Terrain

by Iris Astres

  They went into the tiny house together, sitting ten feet from each other: he at the small kitchen table, she in the hard wooden chair beside the bed.

  If he’d spoken to her, it would have been easier for Jane. She could have closed herself against his explanations. There was no way to justify the things she’d seen.

  But Raj said nothing, and their mutual silence bled together into some common accord of separation that was unbearable. How long it lasted, she had no idea. They sat. They waited. Shadows gathered. Lengthened. Gave way to darkness. Jane’s hands and feet grew cold and numb. Then after what must have been hours, she heard a car pull up beside the house.

  The engine was so quiet Jane had only just been getting up when they were at the door. The doorbell chimed its cheery dyad of sweet notes, and she felt sick. She ran a hand through her hair, straightened her shirt, and turned the knob.

  The long, sleek city cruiser she saw on the street should have been surrounded by a string of male admirers. Had there been some group of teenage boys to peer in through the windows and admire the black rims and silver armored alloy, its presence would have been less grim, less like the sign of something bad arriving at her door.

  There was a woman standing there and that surprised her. She had no idea what she’d been expecting, but certainly not this stunning image from the glossy cover of a magazine. The man behind her wore the same fashionable gloss over a distinctly rougher look. She spotted other people too. Two men in suits stood at either end of the expensive car, eyes sharp as they surveyed the street. Bodyguards, she supposed.

  “Hello.” The woman had a sweet, round face, surrounded by a mass of curls as pale and pretty as a polished stone. She glanced over Jane’s shoulder and her eyes lit up.

  His world had come here to reclaim him at Jane’s invitation. She had to let him go so they could finish this. But now it hurt. She didn’t know there’d be this lovely, happy woman. She didn’t know the markers of his life were so unlike her in so many ways. If he lived with people who wore silk and pearls inside their urban tanks, what reason would he ever have to think of her? She’d be forever absent from his world, and he was now forever part of hers. It wasn’t fair.

  “Thank God.” The woman stared at Raj; her eyes sparkled with happiness. She turned that beaming smile on the somber man behind her, and Jane made herself move away from their reunion. She stepped around them and leaned against the porch rail, thankful for the stinging crispness of the air.

  “You let Solange come to the door?” Raj asked.

  “We scanned the building first,” the man answered. “Not much that’s dangerous here from the look of it.”

  It went on but her back was to it all, her eyes fixed on the farthest point that she could see. Time to get on with it. Time for the next part of her life to start. That was her mantra now. Her promise to herself. This will be over, and I’ll start again.

  The woman pulled Raj into her embrace. Jane sensed it, heard them murmuring to one another but kept her eyes fixed on the distant purple hills. She didn’t want to think about the bubbling up and over of this stranger’s obvious delight. Her cool, watchful companion also seemed pleased—for his woman, for himself. Raj was as good as home again. A foot away from her and gone. Their moment ended. Chapter closed.

  When everyone was finally gone, she’d cry. Her chest and throat felt full of tears. Enough to weep for days. That was okay. It wouldn’t be for him she cried. He was an alien, a murderer. Irrational, remorseless, terrifying. No, Jane would cry because it had gone wrong again. A good deed ended in the same bad way. First Human, her idealistic parents’ failure. Then Rick and all the time she’d spent trying to make herself believe she loved him.

  And now this last insanity. The most embarrassing of all. He’d given her an expert fuck, and she’d been dumb enough to think something had passed between them. Something rare. Something pure. A connection that was soul deep and important.

  More than the thrill of sex, Jane had felt the purest form of sheer benevolence for Raj. He’d lain beside her, and she’d wished that she could press well-being into him by touching her palm to his skin. How often had she looked down at her hand against his chest, dreaming she could make the whole world better for him?

  Jane lowered her eyes to the gravel of the street and tried to make the image go away. The hollow sound of footsteps on the wooden stairs gave way to heels on concrete. They were leaving. When she heard the car doors open, Jane looked up.

  “Do you really want me gone?” The strangers disappeared inside the car, but he was still beside her, speaking his first words to her since their return. Jane registered the hushed sound of his voice and didn’t trust her own enough to answer him.

  “Come with me.” This time he placed his hand on her arm. The weight of it. The warmth.

  She shook her head.

  Raj sighed. Exhaustion. Worry. Resignation. “I couldn’t let them take you from me.”

  Was that his reason? Was it a good one? She didn’t know. Her mind was gone. Her eyes were wet, and she was on the brink.

  Go. One easy word but she just couldn’t get it out. If she tried, it would squeeze from her throat garbled, soppy. She did not want that memory ringing in her ears. With her attention fixed on the worn wood beneath the peeling paint, she took his arm and followed the smooth skin down to his hand. She made herself look deep into his eyes although it hurt as much as leaning into nails.

  And Raj stared back at her. Silent, thoughtful. He watched her body speak to him. She let him see the wounds, the misery, the desperate need to be alone so she could fall apart. Eventually he turned away, walked down the stairs, and got into the car. The shining vehicle pulled away from the curb.

  Jane felt a howl rise in her throat. Somehow she managed to get back inside and stuff it down, only whimpering a little as she closed the door.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Day became night. The nothing all around her didn’t change. When she had to, she got up—used the bathroom, poured some juice into a glass. Eventually she recognized that she could go. No one was looking for her. No one cared. She should move on. When morning came again, she’d get up, pack the things she had. Dump the perishables, turn the water off, and drive away.

  Morning came. She stayed. Jane sat and stared at nothing for another day, barely noticing when darkness filled the space around her. When thoughts came, the images were crystal clear, despite the lack of light. She saw Raj, framed against the sky. He’d been shirtless. In the silk pants she’d mended, his black hair loose around his face, and in his eyes the cold, remorseless calm of someone who’d been born to kill. Not love.

  And Rick was dead because of her. Which meant he’d never see another car. No more beer and dickish jokes. No more looking for a way to be important in the insignificance of their small world. No more anything. Not for him. Not for Joe, Seth, Rudy. Had they all been there? The carnage in the driveway was appalling, but when she’d wanted to go into the garage, he’d made a point of stopping her. The man who was permissive. Always insisting she do what she wanted to do. He’d stopped her. Blocked her way. What had he done in there? How awful had it been?

  In her mind she made herself walk past him into that garage. She saw the black stains on the gray cement and then the gruesome scene. Bloody bodies partially dismembered. Stabbed and beaten. Was that how it had been?

  She could find out. Jane fumbled with the bedside lamp until the weak bulb cast a yellow light over the room. All she had to do was walk out of the house and cross the lawn over to Rick’s car. The messager would have a news feed she could read. The infostations would have picked this gruesome story up by now. They’d know. Someone would have missed somebody. Joe’s sister. Rudy’s mom. Hopefully whatever woman it had been would not have come alone to check on them. She hoped not, for their sake. In any case, the bodies would be found. What passed for law enforcement since the opting out of ’54 would have converged by now to make up their self-serving story.

&
nbsp; They’d say it was aliens, and this time they’d be right. Jane stared into the kitchen, thought of making tea or scaring up the whiskey she’d brought with her. Something to steady herself.

  She didn’t want to walk out in the dark. She also didn’t want to read about the murders. Or see pictures. God. There would be lots of pictures. Pictures were a good way to incite.

  Things would be worse now. Maybe Earth First had already taken action to retaliate. They could be at the Body House right now. Killing everyone inside.

  That thought had Jane on her feet. Moving. But not for whiskey. Not for tea. She navigated through the kitchen and switched the porch light by the door that led out back. Nothing happened. A faulty wire or the bulb was dead. She thought about a flashlight and knew she wasn’t going out there. In the morning. What good would it do for her to know tonight? What could she do to fix this now? The Body House would have security. Lots of it. She knew they would.

  Sitting at the kitchen table made silvery by moonlight, Jane let herself see Raj for just a moment. She let herself feel his skin on hers, how he’d touched her, how he’d stroked and kissed her. Tireless. The constant interest in his eyes, the whispered words.

  Be well. Be safe. She could say that. She could think and feel it too. No matter what he’d done or what he was, she loved him.

  Jane pressed the sleeves of her robe to her face and made herself stop crying.

  She’d married a man she didn’t love. Left him lying bloodless in the dirt. She’d turned her back on one she did—sent to have him hauled away like so much garbage. It made her sick to think of what she’d done.

  The worst part was that she’d been trying to do right. All her life. To be good, helpful, honest, kind. And despite that she got everything completely wrong. And she was all alone.

  * * * *

  Abstaining from sex was really very easy. It didn’t hurt that much at all. In fact, it didn’t feel like much of anything except the oddness of a missing habit.

  For the first day, Raj went on as usual. Sleeping, bathing, observing devotions, sharing meals and conversation with the rest of the community. He felt almost good for a time. Light and sharp. Hyperaware. On the second day the lightness he’d been feeling turned to weakness, and he stayed inside his room. He sat reading a volume of Earth classics he’d been given, until even that was too much for him.

  By the third day, he did not get out of bed.

  Still there was no pain. Not even what he could call craving. Not for sex at any rate. He did crave Jane, of course. But even that constant longing for her wasn’t pain. It was only love.

  Eventually visitors plagued him. Hushed intrusions into what increasingly became an altered state. His fellow Bods came in with water, broth, and juice. He took all three. It didn’t make much difference.

  When he awoke on the fourth day, he felt a woman’s presence on his bed. Raj could feel her reaching for him with her body and her soul. Eyes closed, he knew she was beautiful and sweet, but she was not the woman that he needed.

  “Is this suicide?” asked Solange Clay. Her smooth palm traveled from his forehead to his cheek.

  Raj let an easy smile be his answer. Not suicide but life reaching its natural conclusion. He was in love. His lover wasn’t here. This was how it went. As natural as a long, gentle fall off a high cliff.

  Or maybe it was suicide. Raj supposed someone from Earth might call it that. His brothers at the Body House knew better. Not one of them ever suggested he might change his course. They were all too fascinated by the fact that he’d been drawn into a couple after all his years of dedicated service. If it could happen to a temple lover, no man was immune. No doubt they’d woven his fate into quite a story. An even better one if it finally killed him. Let them tell it through the centuries. He didn’t care what anyone might think.

  “Sleep with me.” Solange still had her palm pressed to his cheek. “Amin will play too.” Raj nodded at the large shape sitting in his chair beside the door. No doubt Amin Clay would join them in involved debauchery if she asked him to. It was interesting how he managed to indulge his wife and rule the world at the same time.

  “Just a quick and dirty fuck to keep your strength up,” suggested Solange. “Then you’ll go and get this woman if you want her. Did you even try?”

  “This isn’t about what I want,” Raj said.

  Solange turned to her husband with a sigh. She stood and fumbled with her skirt. They’d all been lovers once before, a memorable evening that had blossomed into friendship and respect. He smiled weakly as she doggedly went through with the unveiling of her body.

  Raj turned to Amin, whose constant gaze was locked on his wife. “Would you fuck your way better if Solange left you?” Raj asked.

  “Doubtful,” came the answer, and they all heard that he meant “never in a million years.”

  Solange spun toward her husband. “You’d just lie in bed and die? What good is that to anyone?” She turned her rising temper back to Raj. “Why don’t you get off your ass and go and get her? What is this wasting-away nonsense? Are you some sixteen-year-old girl? If you can get up, then get up. If you can’t get up, then have sex with me until you can. Amin will help, just like before. He is your boss here, don’t forget.”

  “You’re very kind.”

  “Fuck being kind. I’m in the mood for cock, and yours was very nice as I recall. Do you remember how it was between us? Or is it all gone in your swoon of love?”

  “Solange.” Raj sighed and looked at her with unmasked patience. “No one who’s had you has ever forgotten you.” She sat back down beside him. Her skirt was gone. He saw her stockings had pink bows stitched over the elastic at the top. The flesh stirred something in him. She’d been a tantalizing partner and a warm soul. And now here she was trying to save him, just as Jane had done. He lifted to his elbows and scooted higher on the bed.

  “She saved my life, Solange. My life is hers. We are united as a couple. In all such cases, this is what occurs. When lovers are abandoned on my planet, that’s the end. There isn’t any coming back. I promise you it’s not something I’ve made up to annoy you. Ask any Bod. They’ll tell you.”

  Solange stared at him, eyes grave. “Fight,” she said. “Do what you have to do so you can go and get her. You love her, so you stay alive.”

  Raj lay back in bed. “Amin,” he said. The man stood up and came to stand behind his wife. He stooped to pick her skirt up and grabbed her by the elbow. “Come,” he said.

  “I’m not letting him die.” There was a swell of mourning underneath the stubbornness. Solange was sweet. Her body had been sweet as well.

  Raj grabbed her hand and kissed it. “This isn’t death,” he said. “It’s how my life with her has ended.”

  “Stop it,” she warned. “That temple schmemple shit is on my nerves.” She pushed her husband with one hand and grabbed Raj with the other.

  “They found that trail of bodies you left for them. Has anyone else told you that? You killed eight fucking people. You do realize that, don’t you? In your opinion, what might happen to Jane now? They’ve been blaming aliens for everything from fleas to famine for the last two years, but this time they have proof. They have their fallen heroes to draw people to their cause. Earth Firsters were all mad before, but now they’re positively foaming. What makes you think Jane’s safe? Or don’t you care? You strolled away and left her in the middle of that wasteland all alone. They found her once. What if someone decides to look for her again?”

  Raj was struggling to sit up. He got his feet over the side of the bed and worked to draw the energy to stand. But it was too late; he was too far gone and he had been a fool. He’d given her his absence because that was what she’d asked for and the greatest sacrifice that he could give. Never once had he considered that she needed him. But his actions had exposed her to reactions, and he’d left her unprotected. Solange was right, as Jane had been. He was a monster.

  “Amin.” The man owed him nothing; still he a
sked because it was his only hope. “Find her. Save her. Bring her to me. Please.”

  * * * *

  Jane knew that there was trouble before her eyes were open. Awareness of danger took the form of tires. Not the lone car making its slow way south, but cars—three or more. Jane never even questioned who they’d come for. She pulled herself from sleep and out of bed. She shuffled through the kitchen to the bathroom just like any other morning. No pounding heartbeat. No alarm. Jane ran the water, splashed her face, and wet her toothbrush.

  She fancied she could hear them hovering outside. Perhaps they even thought that they were being quiet, that they’d take her unawares. Her hair was combed, and she was dressed in minutes, staring at the door.

  The knock, when it came, was no more than a genteel tap tap. Not law enforcement then. Nor could it be the wives and mothers of the dead mechanics here for Outland vengeance. That would be grim.

  Inching through the shadows to the far side of the door, she pulled the curtain back and took a cautious look.

  It was the news. Good God.

  She walked through the hallway thinking of how awful people looked on infoscreens. Pasty and disoriented. Upset. Turned around. She felt nothing, so she held some hope she’d be too dull to make interesting airplay.

  The second knock she was expecting never came. Instead she heard more crunching gravel, heavy tires skidding to a stop. There were receding footsteps. Whoever had been hovering outside had been diverted from her scent. Jane grabbed the doorknob and pulled at the door.

  Eye on the Outlands was written on the side of a white van. Beside that was a black sedan. She saw a tiny woman in what looked like a flak jacket surrounded by men holding various equipment. All of them had turned their backs to look at those who’d just arrived. Sunlight glinted off the polished silver; still Jane recognized the car.

  Her heart was pounding hard enough to send a blinding rush of blood behind her eyes that made her fumble for something to hold on to.

  Could it really be Raj? She strained to see around the barrier of uninvited guests. The suited men emerged in similar formation, the same woman, the same man. She waited. That was all.